Date: Wed, 21 Nov 2012 18:22:13 -0500
From: kentthewriter <kentthewriter@gmail.com>
Subject: The Spookiest Halloween Ever - Gay Adult/Youth

Hey Guys. Kent here. I really enjoyed my last Halloween story (link below)
and wanted to write a nice companion piece that was a bit more out there.
Warning, there are younger boys having sex with older men in this, so if
you don't like that kind of thing, move on. The author does NOT condone sex
between adults and minors in any realm of reality. This is for fantasy
only.

To read my more adult Halloween spooky tale, copy and paste this:

If you like this story, PLEASE get in touch. I love hearing from fans. You
can email me at KentTheWriter@gmail.com or IM me on Yahoo chat at
KentTheWriter.  Also, check out my other story, which has MUCH better plot
and character development, The Epidemic (warning, it has younger boys in
it): http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/the-epidemic/

Or visit the stories that are a bit too sizzling for Nifty here:
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Dirk_Carlor/

Now, Enjoy

Part 1

I was so fucking horny each time I heard the doorbell, I had to do
everything in my power not to let my cock pop right out from under my
ripped up jeans. It wasn't just all the adorable little boys that were
showing up on my house to collect candy, it was that I knew, any minute, it
would be my son, and he'd be coming back with a lot more than candy.

Around midnight, I started getting worried, though. I had run out of Candy,
and I knew my boy should be back by now. What was going on with him? What
were the guys doing? I had been kinda nervous all night--it was the first
time I'd sent my son out on his own to fulfill his Halloween duties.

I got up and paced around a bit, trying to figure out if I should head out
and start searching for my kid. Then I caught a look at myself in the
mirror, and knew that it was a bad idea. I was all bloody and pale, and my
muscles were bulging out of my ripped shirt and torn up jeans. I could see
my big calf muscles showing, and my biceps were looking mighty fine.

I was dressed as a Zombie that year, you see...so I was pretty scary
looking. Of course, I could be intimidating without my makeup and
costume--I'm a big guy--but this was definitely a serious costume for
me. I wasn't going out in public like that, and I was feeling too lazy and
tired to wash off the makeup, so I decided I'd just have to wait it out
until the kid came back.

Finally, around 2am, the doorbell rang. I knew it couldn't be any other
kid, since it was so late, so I rushed forward and ripped open the door. I
couldn't wait to see what costume he ended up in that night.

But to my surprise, there was no costume. There was barely a kid there. It
was more of some sort of shivering animal. My son was completely naked,
fetal on the door step, shivering (from the cold? or something else!)
Beside him lay the big pillow case that I had sent him out with. It looked
quite full.

"Oh my god!" I shouted, and quickly scooped the boy up and brought him
inside, quickly checking to make sure the neighbors didn't see. "What the
fuck happened to you?"

It was a rhetorical question, since I knew the kid was in no shape to
ask. He looked like he'd had a rough night, which wasn't surprising, but
maybe a little rougher than I had anticipated. I guess that's what happens
when kids are supervised.

OK, so shoot me, maybe I should have checked on the kid a bit longer. But I
was so anxious to get to his bag downstairs that I sorta just threw him on
his bed and gave him a quick look-over.

A few bumps and bruises, but no blood that I could see. His tiny body
looked exhausted and paler than usual, and his dirty blonde, curly head was
matting to his head in some places--with God knows what. I'd soon find
out.

"You'll sleep it off," I said to the kid, patting his head a bit and trying
not to get too much of the goop from his hair on my hand. Then I switched
off the light and headed down the stairs. Yeah, I know, I sound like I'm a
bad dad. But I had more important matters to attend to.

Those matters were downstairs in the pillowcase my kid brought home. I
opened it up and inside I saw what I had hoped so much would be there:
three video tapes, marked with numbers 1-3. But then, as I dug a bit deeper
into the bag, I noticed something else – a fourth video.

"What the fuck?" I said out loud. Why the fuck was there a fourth video in
my son's candy sack? I only picked out three guys...

I pushed away that thought and allowed myself to revel in what was before
me. Just the site of these videotapes made me drop my pants and whip out my
poor, pent up monster cock. I take it out and go to town on it with two
fists, enjoying the feeling of my calloused hands on my 12-inch tool. Yes
folks, I have a foot-long cock, and I use it on my son. So sue me.

I stood there jerking my dick, getting it covered in some zombie paint, as
I rifled through the rest of his pillow case. Mostly, it was just
candy--looks like the kid had managed to visit a few houses along his
true route. Speaking of which, the little map I had draw up for him on a
piece of orange construction paper was still in there. I used a black
crayon so that if anyone found it, they'd think he'd drawn it
himself. Unless they turned it over and looked at the back, where I had
written out (also in black crayon) the instructions for my son:

Follow this map EXACTLY.

Visit any house you like along the way that looks like it's giving out
candy.

You MUST visit each of the three houses with an X before I'll let you back
in the house. Those are extra fun HAUNTED HOUSES.

You must video tape your approach to the house, and then give the camera
over to the man who owns the HAUNTED HOUSE.

You must get one piece of candy from each of those houses. DO NOT LEAVE
UNTIL THEY'VE GIVEN YOU THE CANDY.

Do not eat any candy until you get home and I say you can, unless one of
the monsters you meet at the HAUNTED HOUSES tells you to.

Be safe. Look both ways before you cross the street.

Remember to say THANK YOU when you get your candy.

 Happy Halloween.

Daddy

Reading over the note gave me an odd feeling. My brain was telling me that
what I had done was awful--to send a kid his age out on his own on
Halloween night, KNOWING that he was gonna end up in BIG trouble with some
scary strangers. After all, I barely knew anything about any of these
strangers that I was sending him to. I had met the guys online, and checked
out their houses from my car, but I didn't want to meet any of them.

Why? I don't know, call me a bad dad, but something about not exactly
knowing what kind of danger I was getting my offspring into made my cock
throb harder than it ever had before. Knowing that I was just essentially
throwing him to the wolves on the scariest night of the year threatened to
make me cum before I even popped in the first video.

But I knew had to wait. I wanted to save my load for AFTER the videos, when
I was going to have some quality time with my kid.

I dug through the candy in his bag, but it's just sweets for the little
guy. No sign of the three costumes we picked out together a month ago. I
had sent him out in his three favorite little getups, and given the men at
the Haunted Houses a heads up about what he'd be wearing, so they could
plan accordingly.

Another pang of guilt rang through me, and once again it made my cock
bounce and throb and drool in my fist. I had let my boy get so worked up
about those costumes. I had encouraged his excitement, cause I enjoyed his
happy face as he ran through the aisle of the costume shop, trying to
decide which three were his absolute favorite.

I should clarify--I enjoyed the smile on his face knowing that the three
costumes he picked would be adding to what happened to him on
Halloween. The three costumes that got his little heard racing and his big,
toothy smile, would be part of the torment that would be All Hallow's Eve
for my boy.

But the costumes were completely missing. That was mystifying to me--what
possible could have happened to my son that would make his costumes not
worth returning to his dear old dad? I shuddered at the thought, and also
flung a glob of precum against my thigh.

Enough pondering. It was time to watch the videos. I was so excited I
couldn't wait, and even though it was close to 2:30 in the morning, I was
planning watching them all while my baby slut upstairs took a much-needed
rest.

I popped the first mini-cassette tape in and plopped down on the couch,
enjoying the feeling of my big, low-hanging nuts bouncing on the velvety
couch as I waited for the video to cue up.

VIDEO TAPE 1

I see a shot of a normal suburban house, one-story, like you'd see in any
neighborhood in any medium-sized town in the U.S. It has a big front porch
with fake cobwebs on it and a jack-o-lantern grinning evilly.

From behind the camera my son is breathing heavily as he ascends the steps,
then reaches up to ring the doorbell.

"TRICK OR TREAT!" he says excitedly in his tiny little voice as the door
swings open. Behind it is a man in his late 40s dressed as an Army soldier
in full camos.

He's got a camo hat, shirt and pants, all in brown, green and khaki,
matching the paint he's smeared all over his face to conceal his
identity. You can tell he's hot underneath, with a square jaw and dark,
intense eyes that look so bright and white in contrast with the dark
makeup.

The boy moves the camera up and down the man as I told him to, giving me a
good look at the man. He's big, just like the boy's Dad, but broader in the
shoulders. The guy has a military build, and it wouldn't be surprising if
that "costume" was actually his old uniform. He's got thick arms, and for
the fun of the costume, he's ripped the sleeves of his shirt to show them
off. They've got big tattoos of anchors and rope up and down them.

"Hello, sailor," the man says, and reaches out for the camera. There's a
bit of a shuffling as the man grabs the recorder from the kid and turns it
around, and then I nearly jizz myself looking at my kid in his costume. I
hadn't seen him in it--I wanted it to be a surprise so I was in my
bedroom when he got dressed and headed out on his Halloween Hunt.

Good god, he's fucking ADORABLE. The little guy is dressed in a cute,
innocently white sailor uniform. It's complete with the bell-bottom pants,
blue and white scarf, and tiny little white cap. He gives the man a cute
little salute, smiling. He clearly doesn't know what he's in for yet.

"Come on in, soldier," the uniformed stranger says as he escorts my kid
inside and into a dimly lit living room.

He places the camera on the mantle of his fireplace so that it's aiming
perfectly at him and my son.

For the first time, I see them together, and I am struck by just how much
bigger this man is than my kid. I was always big for my age, and as an
adult, I'm really intimidating in size. I don't know why my son didn't take
after me--he's been small since he was a baby, and is just a tiny little
thing now.

But this man is even bigger than me, and just towers over my little boy,
who is standing there in his uniform, anxiously wiggling his feet.

The man walks over to the table and picks up a bowl of Reece's Peanut
butter Cups, takes one and hands it out to my son.

"Thank yo--" my son starts to say as he reaches for it, but he's cut
short when the man yanks it away from him.

"Did I say you could take that candy, Soldier Slut Boy?" he barks at my
kid. OK, yes--this man definitely was in the military at some
point. Either that, or he's really getting into character, cause he sounds
just like a scary gym sergeant.

It's making my kid tremble--he doesn't handle getting yelled at well. But
after all, it wouldn't be Halloween without a little fear.

Then, the really scary stuff begins. I hear an unzipping sound, and the
next thing me and my video-taped son know, there's a schlong in the
room. And it's terrifying.

The Halloween monster hanging out of his fatigues is not even hard yet, and
still it's girth is insane. It rises to attention slowly in front of my
son, and that's when I realize that it too is covered in camo body
paint. WOW. My son has gone completely stupid, gaga eyed over it. As if he
weren't choking down my 12-inch dick every day. Kids--pathetic, no?

The thing is loooong and veiny, but what's most impressive about it, now
that it's at full-mast, is the head on it. The thing is the size of a small
apple, and though the whole cock is thick, it really sticks out as just
being WAY TOO big.

My kid has gone silent. He seems to agree.

"ALL RIGHT NOW KIDDO," the man barked in a scary military voice as he began
to stroke his throbbing sergeant cock. "YOU KNOW THE DRILL. You want that
piece of candy, you're gonna have to work for it, SOLDIER! So here's how
it's gonna work. You're gonna have to come over here and not just slobber
on this cock, but CHOKE on it. You will stuff each and every inch down your
throat, and I will fuck your mouth until you FUCKING SNARF UP COCKSNOT! I
WANNA SEE YOU GAG UP MY SPERM OUT YOUR LITTLE PINK NOSTRILS. YOU HEAR ME?"

"Y...yes sir..." my son said.

"DID I SAY YOU COULD SPEAK, CUMSLUT? NO! NOW LET US BEGIN!"

The sergeant approached my son, his eyes wilder than ever, and used both of
his big thumbs to pull the boy's mouth open. I'm proud to say my son didn't
resist--when he said he understood, he was probably telling the truth.

The cock began insertion, slipping away into my son's mouth. You'd think,
since it was his first time with the child, that this man would take it
easy and work the kid into it. After all, I didn't tell him that my son
spent most of his out-of-school hours sucking on dick. How was he to know
this wasn't the boy's first taste of adult cock?

Well, maybe it was the way that my kid was adapting to the sizable cock in
his tiny mouth that gave it away.  I mean, already at only four or five
inches of that thing, he was doing his little hiccup routine. That one
where he makes this funny snorting, snotting, gagging, almost-vomiting
sound, topped off by a nice little hiccup. What a CHAMP! YOU GO SOLDIER!

Inch by inch the commanding officer presses on, using my sons ears to help
get the last few inches. He throws is head back and laughs hysterically as
he feels the boy's nose buried in his pubes.

I look at my boy's lips. They're stretched as wide as I've ever seen them,
and his little face is turning red – I guess from lack of oxygen? But
they're not pink at all. Oh no, his little lips are green, brown, and
black--they're slathered in paint from the Sergeant!

That paint begins to run as my boy gasps, drools and gags. Spit is flowing
out his mouth like a waterfall, pooling at his little white knees in a wet
green and brown pool of boy saliva. It's getting all over his costume, too.

The sergeant stops laughing and neither myself nor my child are ready for
what happens next. Immediate, instantaneous, extreme skull fucking.

Seriously, the guy gives no break at all. Alternating between fistfuls of
the boy's hair or his little ears in both hands, the Sergeant gives the
child a skull fucking he's going to remember. I've never done what the man
on screen is doing ot my child. Who is that man on screen with his dong
buried halfway -- no all the way -- no just the head -- back all the
way in again--...? Why the fuck do I care? I'm getting off, right? What
else matters? Sorry, sonny.

This goes on for minutes, all the while my son just watery at the eyes,
making his hiccup noise as his throat is impaled on that fat fist of a
head. The guy fucking my son's face--whoever he is--is still in
character.

"SUCK MY DICK YOU FUCKING FAGGOT SAILOR! YOU'RE GONNA SHOOT THAT LOAD OUT
YOUR NOSE IF IT KILLS YOU, YAH HEAR ME?"

And then, just like that: "AW FUCK I HOPE YOU HAVE FIGURED OUT HOW YOU'RE
GONNA DO THAT, CAUSE HERE IT COMES!"

The Sergeant lets out a roar, but then it falls oddly silent. I'm focused
on my kid, whose eyes are wide in surprise and fear, waiting for that
stranger load to flood his mouth.

And then it does. And I'm so proud of my boy. You know why? Because here's
how it goes down:

For the first few seconds, he squeezes his eyes shut tight, and I see his
throat trying to work down the load that's obviously pouring down his
throat. I can see the Sergeant's balls churning as they shoot it down, and
he just moans and groans as he feeds my son.

But then it happens. A snort, a gag, a grunt and a groan, and my kid
straight up SNARFS cum out his nose. Imagine, if you will, a tiny child on
his knees in front of a stranger who is shooting into his little soft
pallet.

And it works! My son has basically a cumshot out his nose. It doesn't just
dribble out. He is coughing and gagging too much for that. It shoots out of
his nose in little adorable spurts. I doubt they feel very good, though.

Feels good for Sergeant, though. I can basically time his shots of sperm as
you see them fly out of my son's nostrils. Like a little dragon.

And then, just as quickly as it started, it's over. The orgasm stops, the
cum slows to a steady dribble out sonny's nose, and the man extricates his
giant cock from my son's throat.

The kid falls back on his back on the floor, exhausted. The now satisfied
sergeant walks over to the mantle and picks up the camera there. He points
it down at my son, so I can get a good look at him.

My offspring is lying there, panting, gagging and drooling. But his costume
is a mess. What was once sparkling white is now coated in his drool, jizz
and the man's body paint. No wonder that costume didn't make it home.

"Here's your candy, soldier," says the man from behind the camera. I see a
Reece's peanut butter cup fall into the frame, landing squarely on my son's
tummy. He looks at it, then rubs his jaw.

"My mouth is too sore to eat, mister," he says meekly, through the gags.

"Then save it for later. I don't care. Just change your costume and get
out."

The camera flicks off.



Holy. Fucking. Shit. I can't even begin to tell you how many thoughts were
running through my brain. I had just seen THE HOTTEST porno ever created,
and my COCK was well aware of that fact. In both of my fists, already
rubbed raw, throbbing, drooling a literal pool on the carpet below, was the
hardest cock I had ever felt – and it was my own!

But the real mind trip was WHO and WHAT I had just seen. First of all, this
HUGE cock I'm holding--it created our first time porn star. Like
literally--that slut came out of THESE nuts!

Secondly--WHO was his co-star? That man was incredibly hot, but SO
incredibly twisted! How could he fuck his cock into a little boy's soft
pallet and intentionally squirt sperm the wrong way up his nasal cavity?

This was the FIRST house on his route, and I picked it because it was
SUPPOSED to be the easiest. But by no means was that man easy on my son. I
suppose it might be because I sent him some of the pornos me and my boy
have made at home, and forgive me, but I'm not exactly the most gentle of a
lay. My kid will tell you all about it, if he's ever able to speak again
following that assault on his vocal chords.

Only six months ago, when my wife died, my son had never even seen me
naked. Since then, in such a short span, the kid had grown up so much. I
sorta gave him a crash course in cock, admittedly--but it was the best
way for me to deal with the grief of losing my wife.

And I think our first adventure in incest were good for my son's grief,
too. He had been so close with his mother, and was devastated by her
loss. So I found a way to fill he hole she had left inside him.

Of course, it probably wouldn't have been his first choice to have the tool
I used to fill that hole was his own daddy's very angry, very big, very
SCARY cock. Fuck this was getting me too horned up.

I walked to the bottom of the stairs, still jacking my dick.

"Hey son! Just watched your first vid! WHAT A FUCKING SLUT YOU ARE! Now
that I know you shoot cum outta those cute little nostrils so willingly,
we're gonna be doing that A LOT! Maybe first thing every morning. OK! Back
to my programming!"

I didn't know if the slut could hear me in the state he was in, but I
didn't care. I had to get that off my chest, and my son is always there to
lend an ear (or hole).

So with that, I rifled through my son's bag of candy and found VIDEO TAPE
#2. I plopped down on the couch and started rubbing my "zombie" cock as it
cued up.

THE END OF PART 1

If you enjoyed this, hit me up at
KentTheWriter@gmail.com
KentTheWriter on Yahoo!